Skeleton Star Walker: Crimson Cycles

Chapter 1: Coal Smoke and Twisted Starlight Silvermist City never witnesses a complete sunset. Thousands of factory chimneys belch coal smoke day and night, weaving a permanent pale grey haze across the firmament that blots out both stars and sinking suns. Hoarse steam whistles roar throughout the entire industrial metropolis, drowning out the whispers and wails of ordinary mortals. The cobblestone alleys of the slums stay perpetually damp and mucky, reeking of sewage, coking coal and the rot of poverty—here, hope in human hearts rusts away faster than iron. Elias Walker leans against a cracked, weathered brick wall. His tattered wool coat is caked thick with coal dust, stiff and thin, offering no defense against the piercing late-autumn wind. Clutched tight in his hand is a jar of cheap herbal decoction, a meager comfort earned through half a day’s backbreaking labor, the only shoddy remedy the slums have to offer. Yet he knows full well it is utterly useless. No mundane potion can cure Stardust Corruption. Three years prior, an unforeseen starfall anomaly poisoned the entire slum district. Intangible void stardust seeped into flesh and minds alike, twisting ordinary people into raving maniacs or horrifying crystallized aberrations. His younger sister Lila fell victim to this blight. Fine silvery crystalline threads creep beneath her skin year after year, devouring her vitality, warping her sanity, and drilling alien stellar whispers into her consciousness without cease—and no cure exists. Across the whole of the Aerya Continent, only the Eternal Night Church controls a steady supply of corruption suppressants. These are exclusive reserves reserved for the Awakened, an unattainable luxury that lowly commoners could never grasp in a lifetime. A frigid gust tears down the narrow lane, fluttering a faded yellowed brass recruitment notice nailed to the wall. Its words are stark, blunt, and devoid of all warmth: Recruitment for Eternal Night Church Starward Wardens. No noble bloodline required, no innate supernatural aptitude necessary. Monthly stipend includes exclusive corruption suppressant. High-risk posting with an extremely high mortality rate. Elias’s gaze locks rigidly onto the single word: suppressant. He has witnessed the grim end of countless infected commoners: their minds unraveling, bodies crystallizing and warping into mindless star-twisted monsters, only to be slain and incinerated by the Church’s wardens in the end. Penniless, powerless, and utterly alone, Lila is his sole remaining kin in this world, his only weakness and his all-consuming obsession. The road ahead is lined with mortal peril, a venture where nine out of ten will perish—but it is his only way to survive, and the only hope for his sister. He tears the notice free, tucks it inside his coat, and strides toward the towering black cathedral rising amid billowing dark smog. The Eternal Night Church stands as the enforcer of supernatural order across this region, suppressing aberrant beasts and monopolizing all knowledge of stellar power. With cold, merciless edicts, it passes judgment over the life and death of countless lowly mortals. The cathedral’s dark iron gates are carved all over with interwoven stellar runes. Two black-robed wardens stand guard with firearms at their sides, black blindfolds covering their eyes to shield their cognition from the corrupting faint glow of stardust. They sweep Elias—filthy and ragged from head to toe—with gazes filled with nothing but indifference and disdain. “A common recruit?” The warden on the left speaks in a frigid, lifeless tone. “Do you grasp the risks? You will handle sealed stellar relics and face aberrations head-on. Those with weak minds will descend into madness and crystalline transformation on the spot.” “I understand,” Elias holds his ground, his voice calm and resolute. “I need the suppressant to save my sister.” He harbors no grand lofty ambitions, no hunger for supernatural power. This is merely a bargain struck from the depths of despair, forged to cling to his last shred of familial love. The warden steps aside to let him pass. The cathedral corridor stretches deep and dim, flickering gas lamps casting twisted, wavering shadows. The stone walls on either side are inlaid with ancient runes forged to contain aberrations. At the far end of the corridor rests a stone dais, upon which lies a fractured bone tablet wreathed in faint silvery star mist—a low-tier Starward Seal relic used by the Church to test mortals’ mental resistance. “Touch it,” the examiner’s voice is hoarse and heavy. “Endure ten breaths, and you are enlisted. Any who suffer mental collapse will be expelled at once and subdued on site.” Elias steps forward slowly, his fingertips brushing the cold ancient bone tablet. In an instant, countless fragmented visions of violent death flood his consciousness without mercy. Drowning in mire, burning alive in flame, crushed by steam machinery, crystal threads piercing throats… Horrific scenes of death loop endlessly, countless versions of himself perishing amid different desperate predicaments, with no escape, no reprieve. These are not empty illusions—they are echoes of divergent fates borne from shards of stellar remains, countless tragic destinies long foreordained in the depths of the cosmos. Agony and dizziness crash over his entire body, his sanity teetering on the brink of collapse. He clamps his jaws shut so hard blood seeps from his tongue, clinging to one single thought to steady his fraying mind: Lila is waiting for him. At the very moment his consciousness threatens to shatter entirely, all reality rips apart without warning. A scarlet deluge swallows the lamps, stone walls, sound, and every living thing. Heaven and earth dissolve into a boundless, silent crimson void. Suspended at the void’s center floats a colossal throne carved from primeval star-bone, ringed by fine silver dust that forms an absolute barrier shielding it from all divine surveillance and void corruption. A silent summons brands itself directly into the depths of his soul—pure, secret, forged solely for those trapped in despair. This is the final haven for all lost souls, the hidden sanctuary for everyone abandoned by the world and tormented by fate. In the blink of an eye, the crimson void fades, and reality snaps back into view. Elias staggers and drops to his knees, drenched in cold sweat, gasping for breath, faint scarlet light lingering deep within his pupils. The examiner stares at him in shock, disbelief etched across his face. “No commoner has ever endured such violent backlash from stellar remains. You are accepted. Report for official duty at dawn tomorrow.” Elias lifts his eyes toward the fractured bone tablet. He understands deep down: from this moment onward, he has strayed from the path of an ordinary mortal, stepping onto an unknown road paved with corruption, madness, and endless predestined fate.